Bitches be CRAZY.

It’s 40 minutes into detention duty, I brought a book and actual work down with me, but all I have managed to do is hold various text/email conversations and play 15 games of Words With Friends. Welcome to the productivity that shapes my life.    

Spurred on by the content of two of my conversations, though, I have come to a conclusion: Women don’t like me. I’d say it’s that *all* women don’t like me but that’s not entirely true either. Crazy bitches don’t like me, and since most women are crazy bitches, it’s clearly just the vast *majority* of women that don’t like me.    

(I can say this because I am a woman and I am legit crazy, so, yeah, there ya go.)  

((No offense intended to the other crazy bitches out there who may be reading this and are now totally agreeing with my assessment – I am infinitely unlikeable to the female population, I know.))  

This truth was pointed out to me by a male friend after I was telling him about a recent blow out with two female coworkers. He pointed out that this wasn’t the first time that I’ve dealt with similar issues and he was completely right. The best I can figure is that I simply don’t get along well with women. (although I’m not totally discounting his theory: “I’m telling you, it’s the boobs” (they are kinda powerful and stuff, but I’m still not 100% sold.))  

And it’s not that I actively look to NOT get along with other women, but it's that I don't actively look TO get along either. I'm not terribly girlie. Even in high school, all my friends were guys. Except for my one close female friend, who was known to befriend (and even date, with unfortunate results) strictly gay men. (although she was in theater so the pickings were slim to begin with) However, this brings me to my second conclusion: the women I do get along with are generally the women that other women don't like as well. But, gay guys? LOVE them. And they love them right back. As do I. (love me some gay men.) 

These conclusions, which are hardly earth-shattering, have only further cemented my new-found belief: My "inner girl"? is really just a gay boy in drag. It explains SO much and the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. 

Point 1: women don't like me - I'm not girlie enough to even care. 

Point 2: women who love gay men, love me - because my inner girl is a GAY BOY. 

Point 3: I can rock stiletto heels and fake eye lashes like no one's business. Obviously. 

Point 4: man-hating lesbians do not like me - because my inner girl is a GAY BOY. (gay, but a boy nonetheless) However, lesbians who still like men (just not *like* like them, because then they would simply be straight women who don't like me) do like me. (that's a complicated one, I know, but it still holds true.)

Point 5: I love gay men. I really do. Because - yes, you guessed it! -  my inner girl is a GAY BOY. I also just love men in general. Mostly because they don't give me the trouble that women have. Throughout my whole. goddamn. life. 

Now, when it comes to teenage girls, I have to say - this doesn't hold true. Most of my female students still love me. All I can guess is that their inner bitch is still maturing. They'll get there. And, in the meantime, they love me. And the more problems they have? The more they love me. I am the flame to messed-up-girl-drama-moths. 

Disclaimer: this blog has potential to offend, well, everyone. Except maybe straight men. (men are such pigs (there: equality for all))

Post-Disclaimer Disclaimer: that probably should have been posted at the beginning of this post. And, since it wasn't, I will simply just apologize en masse. I'm sorry if anyone's panties are in a bunch. But frankly? not as much as I probably should be.